


If Needs Must

by childrenofthesun



Series: Two Demons, One Stone [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, off-screen rape mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenofthesun/pseuds/childrenofthesun
Summary: Bridging the gap between the prologue and chapter 1 of When All Else Fails, from Aziraphale's POV.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Two Demons, One Stone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664131
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads





	If Needs Must

Aziraphale should have been more careful.

He was still rather happily basking in the glow of requited love, the soft and tender way Crowley had held his hand, as he puttered around the bookshop. His mind was so occupied by Crowley, and the new dimensions unfolding in their relationship, that he automatically assumed that the jangle of the shop bell was announcing Crowley's return. He smiled, not turning as he picked up a stack of books from an overburdened side table and shifted them to another, equally as overflowing, side table.

"Hello again, my dear, does this mean that you've reconsidered giving me a goodnight-"

A sharp burst of pain flared at the back of Aziraphale's head and he staggered, whirling to face Crowley.

Only of course it wasn't Crowley - the outfit wasn't dissimilar, but the physique was all wrong, taller, more muscular.

_Wrong demon_ , he thought erratically, then his vision faded entirely as he slumped to the ground.

He woke, what could have only been a matter of seconds later, to the cold, sharp shock of a pair of infernal manacles closing around his wrists. He had barely a moment to feel a cloying sense of shame - defeated so easily, without even getting a single blow in! - before the demon yanked him upright by the short chain between his wrists.

"Really," Aziraphale huffed, putting on a front of mildly disgruntled offence. No need to let his captor know how utterly terrifying it felt to be shuttered off from his divine powers like this. "There's no need to _manhandle_ me, you could simply ask nicely."

The demon raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure," he drawled sarcastically. "Would've just quietly popped down to Hell because I said please, would you?"

It didn't come as a surprise, but Aziraphale still felt his stomach drop at confirmation on where he was being taken. "You're supposed to be leaving us alone," he tried, but the demon just shrugged.

"Just following orders," he said, and clicked his fingers.

The bookshop disappeared around them and the scent of brimstone briefly filled Aziraphale's nose. He blinked, suddenly finding himself in a dimly lit, grimy hallway that reeked of sulphur and mildew.

Before he even had the chance to orient himself, the demon was tugging him none too gently down the corridor.

He wasn't sure if it was just that all the halls of Hell looked the same, but it really did look identical to the one he'd been led down the last time he'd been down here. The door he was escorted to was different, though, as was the room behind it, the space noticeably smaller. The room did have a window that looked about the same size as the one where Crowley's would-be execution had been held, even if this one was entirely opaque.

The demon shoved him inside and unceremoniously slammed the door behind him, leaving him a little startled and almost making him jump as he suddenly became aware of two new demons silently regarding him from where they were leaning against the back wall.

"Hello," Aziraphale offered hesitantly, because there was no reason to not be polite just because he'd been taken prisoner. The demons stonily ignored him, staring straight ahead, and Aziraphale promptly gave up on trying to converse with them, nodding several times to himself.

This was- this was fine. He just needed to figure out how to bluff his way out of here, and everything would be fine. He'd done it once before, hadn't he? Granted, that had been when he'd been pretending to be Crowley, which he could hardly do now, but-

The door opened, accompanied by a rolling wave of heat that dispelled the damp chill clinging to the corners of the room. A tall demon, with a body that could make artists weep for the fact that they would never be able to capture such beauty, strolled in, assessing Aziraphale with a long, slow drag of his eyes.

"Not what I was expecting," the demon said, arching one perfect eyebrow as the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"I often find myself underestimated," Aziraphale managed, somehow keeping his voice from trembling. The demon laughed, melodious and rich.

"You've got a bit of a mouth on you, don't you, I like _that_." The demon gave him another considering look. "Aren't you going to ask me who I am?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Aziraphale replied evenly, making the demon chuckle again.

"But of course," he said, with an ironic bow. "I am Asmodeus, Ruler of the Second Circle, Prince of Lust. I'm very much looking forward to intimately acquainting you with my work."

Aziraphale pressed his lips together, lifting his chin in defiance.

So. Lust was to be his punishment for his part in averting the Apocalypse, then. He was honestly a little surprised that they hadn't gone with Gluttony, given his tendency to indulge on food.

"What none of us can figure out, is how you made Crowley immune to holy water. Or how he made you immune to hellfire, we all heard what happened Up There." His head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed. "What _are_ the two of you?"

"I really don't think you'd be able to begin to comprehend it," Aziraphale told him, and it wasn't even a lie. He sincerely doubted that the Prince was capable of conceiving of the power of love anymore.

Asmodeus shrugged, seeming unphased. "Be that as it may, I'd say that your behaviour just proves that you belong Down Here, after all."

The angel raised both eyebrows at him. "I belong on _Earth_ ," he replied emphatically.

"Well, you don't belong in Heaven, that's for sure." Asmodeus' eyes glittered as he smiled. "Tell you what, you just go ahead and renounce God for me, and I'll send you back topside, how does that sound?"

Aziraphale giggled incredulously before he could stop himself. "I do beg your pardon, but are you seriously suggesting that I take a Fall willingly?"

"Not necessarily _willingly_ , no," the demon conceded, then snapped his fingers, the opaque glass behind him suddenly going clear, revealing a chained Crowley groggily dragging himself to his feet. Aziraphale's smile vanished in an instant, replaced with horror. Crowley's gaze passed impassively over the window, and Aziraphale knew instinctively that he couldn't see them, probably wouldn't be able to hear them even if Aziraphale could reach the glass to pound desperately at it.

Asmodeus tapped his chin with exaggerated ponderousness. "I suppose I'll have to think of something to sufficiently compelling to motivate you." He smiled. "What with me being the Prince of Lust and all, I can't imagine it's too hard to imagine the direction I'm planning on taking this in."

"No," Aziraphale whispered, aghast.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Asmodeus stared deep into Aziraphale's eyes as he moved in close, his own like two bottomless black lagoons. "I'm going to take him," he said softly. "I'm going to keep taking him, even beyond the point where he has anything left to give, and I won't stop until _you_ give in." He leant back, smirking slightly as Aziraphale stared at him in horrified silence. "Unless you want to just go ahead and renounce Her now, spare him the pain and indignity of it. Mercy's meant to be your lot's _thing_ , after all, isn't it?"

" _Why_?" Aziraphale whispered, voice sounding like it had been dragged up out of the deepest pit.

Asmodeus smiled lazily. "Because, even with whatever he's become now, at the end of the day, he's still one of ours. And we can't have a demon of any description running around in love with an angel without repercussions, it's a bad look."

Aziraphale continued to stare at him, throat clogged, eyes prickling with tears.

He loved Crowley, of course he did, that would never be in question.

But did he love him more than God?

It wasn't the pain of Falling that he feared - he'd been built as a soldier, meant to withstand the cruellest agonies imaginable, and would have suffered them gladly if it would have spared Crowley the same, but _this_? Irrevocably severing his ties to his Creator, to the one who had shaped him and given him purpose, and asked only that he love and obey? Could he bring himself to betray they trust he'd spent his entire existence upholding?

Asmodeus glanced down at his non-existent watch. "If you're not going to answer, I'm going to treat your silence as a refusal." His grin was a sharp, wicked thing. "Enthusiastic consent and all that." He tilted his head, giving Aziraphale a considering look. "You _do_ realise he won't love you anymore, once this is over? The fact that you're an angel is probably part of the whole appeal, I'm guessing. Really, your best bet is to do what I want now, before I do anything to him. He might still be willing to pity you, if you beg him prettily enough, but I somehow doubt he'll listen if you let me get my hands on him first."

Several tears slipped down Aziraphale's cheeks as he still didn't say anything.

The Prince of Lust shrugged laconically, still smiling. "Can't say I'm disappointed. He's such a gorgeous piece of work, isn't he?"

He flicked his hand at the two demons who had been lurking behind them. They obligingly stepped forward, each dropping a heavy hand on Aziraphale's shoulders and leading him to a tall, backless stool positioned just in front of the glass barrier separating him from Crowley. They pushed down, and down Aziraphale went, one of the demons grabbing onto the lead chain of his manacles for good measure in case he tried anything stupid.

"I'd suggest you get comfortable," Asmodeus tossed over his shoulder with another lazy smile, hips rolling suggestively as he walked towards the door. "You're in for quite the show."


End file.
